


Traditions

by Aloemilk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:51:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5218664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloemilk/pseuds/Aloemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently, there's many sexy traditions to follow when you move in with someone. The first morning that Ron and Hermione wake up living together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written for the 2015 RomioneSmut Fuckfest on Tumblr, and it won 1st place in its category! [just by one vote so a toast to you, Jenahid!]  
> Title: Traditions  
> Prompt: 6. Bedroom in New Flat  
> Words: 1917

Hermione woke up suddenly, highly aware that she was in a different place, not the bedroom she had been sleeping in for the past two years. The adrenaline put her brain to work quickly, making her remember that she was now in her own flat.

"Bloody hell!"

Well, hers and Ron's. Lying on her back, she had seen him sit up on the bed,  _their_  bed, in one quick motion. His bright hair was messed up from sleep, his back large, pale, and shirtless as he looked around the room— _their_  room.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" he asked, concerned and confused. "You jumped in my arms all of a sudden."

"Did I? I'm sorry, nothing's wrong, I don't think," she replied. Seemingly satisfied that they were in no imminent danger, he turned and fell back to the bed with a groan, an arm dropping heavily across her naked midsection. "Umf!"

"Sorry," he mumbled, his face hidden in the crook of her neck. "I hate to wake up with a startle. It makes me groggy."

He casually hooked one of his long legs around one of hers. Now he was comfortably settled on his side, almost plastered to her, arm still around her, head still on her neck.

She sighed in contentment. "Happy first day of living together."

"Mmmm," he mumbled as he nuzzled her neck with his long nose. "We're living together."

"As of last night, we are." She softly caressed the arm that lay heavy on her stomach. "Which you insisted we had to celebrate before falling asleep, despite both of us being absolutely exhausted."

She couldn't see his face, but she was sure he was smiling. He lifted the arm that rested on her to playfully pinch a nipple, and she laughed and swatted it away.

"We had to christen our bed, didn't we? Bad luck if we went to sleep without properly inaugurating it."

"So you said last night, although I had never heard about that tradition before."

Ron lifted himself to rest on his elbow, his free hand now roaming around Hermione's waist and ribs. "It isn't the kind of thing people just talk about!  _Don't forget to bless the bed by having wild sex the first night you sleep there_!" He snickered at his own joke.

"Or," Hermione argued, "it's just something that doesn't exist and that you invented for your own pleasure."

"Pleasure, alright," he laughed. His hand closed around her breast now, squeezing lightly. "I didn't see you complain about it last night."

"Didn't want to tempt bad luck," she countered, looking up at him with as much innocence and self-righteousness as she could muster.

They locked eyes, and he gave her such a bright, happy smile, that she had to return it. Without tearing his eyes from her, he found her nipple again and slowly rubbed the tip between two fingers. This time she let him do it, and the sensitive brown skin puckered immediately.

"There's another tradition," he started, leaning in so that his face got as close to hers as possible without making it uncomfortable to look at each other.

"Oh, yes? What would that be?"

"It's something you do the first time you wake up living together," he continued, releasing her nipple and climbing on top of her, resting his weight on his elbows.

"Oh, yes?" she repeated, her voice sounding slightly more quivering than it did before.

With one knee he pulled her legs apart, and she played along and locked them around his thighs, one of her calves teasing him by going up and down his leg.

"Yeah, it's very important to make sure the man in the relationship kisses every freckle on his beloved's body, on the first morning they wake up living with each other, in order to have a long and blissful life together." He looked at her hungrily, and bent to kiss her cheek. "I better start immediately; there's a lot of them on you."

He set to the task, kissing two freckles on her neck, and one on her left collarbone.

"So what happens if two lesbians start living together? Does this blessing apply to them?"

Ron lifted his head from her right shoulder, where he had just kissed another freckle. "What?" he asked confused.

"Lesbians. No man in the relationship to kiss anyone's freckles," she smirked.

"Oh, shut up. This is an old, conservative tradition." He bent down and kissed a freckle on her left breast. Then he kissed her nipple, closing his lips around it and sucking slightly.

Hermione quivered.

"Your nipples are the same colour of your freckles, so I'll pretend I have to kiss them as well, alright?" Ron announced in a husky voice, as he moved to the other nipple.

"Alright," Hermione breathed out.

As Ron moved down her body looking for freckles, he kept his hands around her breasts, his fingers rubbing and squeezing and teasing. She stretched and rested her arms above her head on the pillow, settling further into the mattress and enjoying Ron's explorations and soft kisses. She focused her attention on his lips and the slight coldness they left on her skin every time he lifted his head, and on his hands and their incredible warmth, the contrast quickly waking up her body.

She was curious of his hands' destination when they left her chest, which meticulously brushed around her hips with just the tip of his fingers, on the point her buttocks joined her legs, so sensitive, and up the back of her legs. A shiver went up her spine in response, and her breath hitched when he hooked his thumbs behind her knees, effectively managing to get her legs to rest on his shoulders.

His hands moved again, their rhythm slightly rougher this time. He grabbed the front of her thighs as he kissed the freckles down the inside of her legs, one by one until the side of his face teased the curly hair at the point where they met.

Only a second had passed before she felt him gently running his tongue along her lips, and didn't even stop and think if she remembered having any freckles there. She let herself melt into their bed, their breaths quickening and the tension growing between them, knowing by experience that soon she would be shivering and unaware of anything she said.

She was almost shocked out of her anticipation when she realised he was handling her body so that she would be on her stomach, and looked back questioningly and almost disapproving. She loved when he used his tongue on her.

"Maybe later," he said, knowing her well enough to expect her disappointment, "but I'm a man on a mission."

He again lowered his head to her body, nipping on her buttocks and moving up to lick on her lower back.

She lurched and grasped at the pillow under her in reflex.

"Woah," he commented, amazed, and did it again, causing the same automatic reaction.

"No, stop, it's too much," she begged breathlessly, the touch of his tongue on her extremely sensitive back sent a shock to her senses.

"Do you really want me to stop?" He nibbled at the aroused skin once more, and she jerked and gasped and moaned, but made no attempt to turn or get away from him.

"No," she admitted, and he sniggered.

"Good, because this is fucking hot," he added with a growl.

Hermione could barely keep her body under control, incapable of stopping her body from jumping and shivering every time his tongue teased her back. He soon was adding the lightest of touches with the tip of his fingers, causing a million sensations and making every hair stand on end, every nerve end explode and fire up at the same time.

By the time he had reached the crux of her neck and shoulders, she could feel the tip of his hard cock gently pushing and pulsing against her bottom. She was past the point of any consideration or thought, and tried to squirm against him, hips and back arching to try to entice him to bury himself in her.

"Stop that or I won't be able to stop myself," he demanded, his hot breath tickling her skin.

"Please don't, I need you. I can't stand this anymore, please," she pleaded, wriggling under him in desperation. Her body was electrified, fully awake and taut in answer to the intense new sensations, and it needed him. Her body needed his, as soon as possible.

He kept teasing her, nibbling and licking and groaning, and generally making her brain go to mush.

"Please, Ron," she begged again, "please. Just do it. Get in me, now."

"Good bloody Merlin," he blurted, and positioned himself behind her. He grasped her, his fingers curling around her hipbones, and pulled her up so that her bottom would be in the right angle. His thumbs circled around her arse, and pulled the flesh apart.

"Yes, do it, now," she insisted, completely unaware of how she sounded.

"Fuck," was all he said, and he pushed his cock against her entrance, just slightly.

Hermione groaned in protest, her body reacting on its own, trying to push back against him to get him deeper inside of her, but his hands on her hips stopped her.

Hermione gathered the pillow she was holding onto under herself, as if by abusing it she would be able to control her body. She felt him drive himself a little deeper, but pull out immediately.

"So fucking brilliant, I love seeing myself disappearing into you," he groaned, and finally lunged forward as deeply as he could.

A satisfied whine left her, welcoming him. Ron started moving inside of her almost immediately, setting a fast pace that seemed to be exactly what they both needed.

She could hear herself breathing harshly and mumbling indiscernible words, yet she couldn't care less. All she could do was put her attention on Ron, how he had let go of her hips and had locked his arms straight on each side of her shoulders, supporting his body as he pumped hard into her; hearing his effort in his raspy breath, how her body felt under his assault.

"I don't... I'm gonna... soon," he barely managed, and all she could do was to let go of the pillow with one hand, which she promptly pushed under herself to reach her clit and rub fast.

It didn't take her long, just a few strokes and she was crying out in her climax.

"So... fucking... tight," Ron half-complained, and Hermione felt his release warm inside her, his cock pulsing as her body relaxed and let go.

Time seemed to stop, the air itself paused as they climbed down from their high. As Hermione's senses became slightly aware again, she felt him slowly pull out of her. He fell on his side, half his body still on top of her.

"Would you mind if I go straight back to sleep?" he finally mumbled, still slightly out of breath.

She sighed in contentment. "No, I think the bed is quite blessed, by now. Although I do feel you missed a few freckles."

"Won't you let a bloke take a rest? You greedy witch."

"Oh, c'mon," Hermione turned to her side, to be face to face with Ron. His eyes were closed, but a soft smile curved his lips. "You wouldn't want to tempt fate, would you? Don't you know, it's all about tradition?


End file.
